Wake of Devasation
by only-because3
Summary: "Do you realize," the shorter girl begins once she pulls back, warm breath hitting Quinn's lips, "how beautiful you are when you aren't in control?"


**Title:** Wake of Devastation  
><strong>Author:<strong> only_because3/jeytonbrucasnaley  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Quinn/Rachel  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 6057  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Season 3  
><strong>Warning:<strong> Watersports kink  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> This is a fill over at the glee_kink_meme asking for watersports and comfort sex. This is not a kink I have at all, so I sincerely hope that I wrote it well. Sort of AUish... Let's go with the assumption that Finn/Rachel broke up over the summer, shall we? I also feel as though the end comes off a bit awkward... I really struggled transitioning from the focus on the kink to the comfort sex. All in all though, this is kind of the sweetest I've ever written these two. Anywho, enjoy!

* * *

><p>They're running late. Kind of <em>really<em> late.

It shouldn't be a big deal. They had to leave almost a half an hour later because Mike overslept and, thanks to a car accident they passed five miles back, they're still an hour out. She sees Mr. Schue run a hand through his curly hair for the tenth time in five minutes, his eyes wide and slightly glazed as he glances at his watch. It's ten past eleven and in order to be able to compete (at three. They don't even perform until _three),_ they have to check in by 12:30. They're probably not going to make it in time but Ms. Pillsbury is already there and agreed to sign them in since she's still technically listed as one of their coaches. The amount of worry he's emanating right now is wildly unnecessary and it's doing nothing but stressing out Rachel, who sits in the seat across the aisle from him.

Quinn blows a few stray hairs from her face, glancing around the bus to see everyone else not giving two shits about being late, which is good because she's probably going to make them a little more late. "Mr. Schue?" She sits up straighter and continues once she has his attention. "Can we stop soon? I have to go to the bathroom."

He lets out a heavy, irritated sigh and runs his hand through his hair _again_ before staring at his watch. "We're only an hour out. Is there any chance you can hold it?"

Honestly, she probably won't be able to. Ever since her pregnancy, holding it in has been a problem. It made sense when she was still pregnant because the baby was pressing down on her bladder and both her doctor and Mrs. Puckerman told her that leaking, especially in her last trimester, was going to happen. But it seems that along with her body changing shape (her boobs are, well, existent now but they're covered in silvery stretch marks that match the ones on her stomach that is permanently curved now. Oh, and her hips? Even wider than they were before), she's lost the control she once had in her pelvic floor muscles. Most of the time it's fine because bathrooms are always readily available and stopping for one when she's on the go isn't a problem. There have been some close calls (to the point where her underwear have been left slightly damp), but she's never really tried waiting more than ten or so minutes once she realizes she has to go. An hour? That seems almost impossible.

But Mr. Schue is giving her this look that is _begging_ her to agree and slump back down in her seat and she breathes out, "I can hold it a little while longer, but I'm not sure I can wait an hour."

He nods and is about to leave it at that when Rachel, who had been fidgeting in her seat, speaks up. "Mr. Schue, I don't think stopping is really going to set us back any more than we already are, especially if it's just Quinn."

"If Quinn can hold it," he looks back at her for confirmation, which she reluctantly gives in the form of a nod, before looking back at Rachel, "then there's no point in stopping for just her. We're almost there as it is."

Rachel looks like she's going to protest but Quinn shakes her head. "I can hold it… For now." There's no point in stressing Mr. Schue anymore than he already is and maybe she can make it the rest of the way to Columbus without incident. She can deal with this a little while longer, she's just not too sure how long that is. She relaxes in her seat, or _tries_ to relax, when the other two go back to worrying about the competition, and only then does she notice Puck waking up beside her.

"You sure you're good, Q?" he asks sleepily and she nods. He slings an arm around her shoulders and she leans into his side gratefully. This whole friendship thing they have now is so much better than pretending he doesn't exist. After the resurgence of Shelby and Beth earlier this year forced them to actually deal with their shit, they were able to forge a friendship. It was actually one of the best relationships she's ever had with anyone and it truly helped that Puck already knew so much. Not only was he aware of all of her issues with herself and her parents, but he was also aware of all the effects her pregnancy had on her (As gross and slightly mortifying as it was, he knew all the ins and outs of her pregnancy. Not only had he seen a baby rip through her, he also knew about all the bathroom issues that came along with her pregnancy). What it came down to was that he knew how to deal with her at any given moment, that he knew how to read her unlike anyone else, and vice versa. The great part was that Lauren totally understood that sometimes, they just needed each other, and once it was made clear that everything between them would only be platonic, Quinn was able to, happily, settle into being their third wheel.

Lauren is actually sitting two seats up, chatting with Mercedes and Tina about something and Quinn couldn't be happier that her best friend's girlfriend isn't by them. Puck gets the implications of this without her having to say anything and knows just how to distract her. "Explain to me the new Marvel movie that came out earlier this year," she asks and he grins.

"You know, I wouldn't have to do this if you just agreed to watch them with me again."

She wrinkles her nose. "I'm not sitting through those anymore if I don't have to. I wouldn't even go with Sam to see his dorky movies."

"You didn't have to before," he replies and she rolls her eyes.

"You were giving my pregnant butt somewhere to live. The least I could do is watch a few movies with you." She crosses her legs tightly and exhales with her entire body.

"Don't try to act like you totally weren't in to all three of the X-Men movies," he counters before finally diving in to summarizing Captain America.

* * *

><p>They're stuck in traffic for twenty minutes and Quinn is very quickly approaching emergency status. She and Puck have taken to playing cards but she's becoming more and more fidgety every time the bus rolls forward and then stops abruptly ten seconds later. Her legs are starting to burn from remaining flexed around one another for the past half hour (she had, briefly, tried doing kegal exercises like her doctor had suggested, but it only made things worse) and nothing is distracting her from the fact that she's 100% positive she's already leaked slightly.<p>

Before she can open her mouth, Puck is throwing his cards down as he kneels on their seat. "We have to stop," he yells out and Mr. Schue looks back at them just as they finally reach the end of the traffic jam.

"We're only twenty minutes out… Maybe even shorter depending on how our bus driver goes." Quinn can see the driver glance at them in the mirror and the bus accelerates noticeably. This causes Mr. Schue to smile. "We'll be there in no time, Quinn."

She shakes her head. "I can _not_ wait, Mr. Schue." Puck's hand goes to the space where her shoulder and neck meet, thumb rubbing circles over the knot on the back of her neck. "I've waited as long as I can."

"We're already so late, Quinn. And we're _so_ close."

Rachel's head pokes out from her seat. "Five more minutes aren't going to matter, Mr. Schue. If you'd like, we can start going through our runs on the bus to make up for the obviously necessary pit stop." It's kind of weird that Rachel isn't being as crazy about being late as Mr. Schue is, and Quinn briefly wonders if it's because they're somewhat friends now. It's not like it is with her and Puck, but they're at least polite acquaintances. It was inevitable considering Shelby's return affected Rachel just as much as it did them and they did see each other quite often when they were at Shelby's. But then Quinn remembers that all she has to do is pee and she's pretty sure Rachel wouldn't deny anyone the simple privilege of not wetting themselves.

"Am I stopping or not," the bus driver calls out and Mr. Schue cuts Rachel off before she can say yes.

"Just keep going as fast as you can to the hotel." Quinn watches with wide eyes as they drive past the off ramp, all of her options whipping past her.

"What the _fuck_," Puck spits out as Rachel stands up from her spot.

"Mr. Schuester! Do you realize how negligent this is," Rachel shrieks, finally grabbing everyone's attention. "Do you realize how much trouble you could get in if we report this? And then it won't matter if we win Sectionals today because we won't have a teacher supervisor."

Mr. Schue looks torn between yelling and reclaiming his authority position and crying, especially once the rest of the club starts berating him for his decision. As much as she appreciates everyone jumping to defend her, turning on Mr. Schue right before the competition won't help them (even if she does wish for Mr. Schue to go die in a fire at this specific moment in time). Besides, she's pretty sure the next exit is the one they need anyway. She tugs on Puck's arm to get his attention. "I need to be let out at the first place we see off the freeway," she says as calmly as she can. She shifts again, feeling her underwear dampen a little more.

This really can _not_ be happening to her.

He nods, muttering, "This is _bullshit_," under his breath as he steps over her to go talk to Mr. Schue.

She closes her eyes and tries to focus on her breathing, squeezing her legs together as tightly as she can. She's glad she sat near the back of the bus because this is feeling like an even bigger problem with each breath she takes.

There's a gust of air next to her and she opens her eyes to see Rachel slumping into the seat across from her. "As much as I believe Mr. Schue is vital to our team dynamic," she starts softly, smoothing out her plaid skirt, "I really hope you file a complaint against him. You look miserable."

Quinn tries to let out a bitter laugh but, _god_, that's not a good idea at all. "I _am_ miserable," she breathes out, her hand clutching on to the side of her seat. "I should've pushed to stop an hour ago. I knew I wouldn't be able to make it all the way to the hotel."

"If it was already that bad, Quinn-"

Quinn shakes her head. "It wasn't." Rachel's face twists in confusion and, _seriously_, it was bad enough that she knew she was occasionally leaking; she didn't want to explain to Rachel that she has the pelvic control of a 60 year old woman. She swallows thickly, squirming in her seat when she feels another light trickle escape. "After my pregnancy and giving birth." she begins, thankfully stopping when Rachel's eyes widen slightly and the brunette nods.

"Enough said," she answers sympathetically, giving Quinn a reassuring smile. "Do distractions help? For me, I refuse to speak to anyone if it gets bad enough. My dads are kind of like Mr. Schue. They can both make it through a road trip without stopping and think it's ludicrous that I have to go two or three times a trip."

Quinn swallows again before answering, the back of her throat letting a strangled whimper escape when she feels her underwear start to get more than damp. "I'm not sure. Puck distracted me for a while but I really can't stop thinking about anything else anymore."

Puck walks down the aisle towards them, dropping into the seat in front of Quinn. "I'm pretty sure Mr. Schue could get me expelled for the shit I just said to him, but let's just say that this is never going to happen again and we'll have As in Spanish for the rest of high school." She really wants to smile to let him know how thankful she is but she literally feels like she is about to burst at any second. He leans over and grabs his bag from the seat next to her, giving her a peck on the cheek before seriously telling her, "I believe in you, Q," before heading over to sit with Lauren.

"Did you want me to leave you alone," Rachel asks politely, getting up to move back to her spot at the front of the bus when the bus takes a sharp turn (on to the off ramp, Quinn notes), causing the brunette to fall towards Quinn. She doesn't actually fall on to Quinn as her hands stop her from face planting across the sitting girl, one hand clutching Quinn's shoulder and the other on the space next to her, but it's enough to make Quinn gasp and then warm liquid is filling the space between her thighs and pooling at her ass, leaving her feeling simultaneously relieved and mortified.

"_Oh my god_," rushes out of her mouth and she can feel her face grow hot as she screws her eyes shut, wishing with every fiber of her being that this wasn't happening, not here on this bus, and most certainly not with Rachel fucking Berry leaning over her. She can feel the seat getting wet beneath her, just enough for her to know there's going to be a spot on the back of her dress, but she takes a big gulp of air and squeezes every muscle she can to make it stop, but it's no use. She just peed on herself at seventeen years old. This didn't even happen when she was _pregnant_.

Rachel won't stop looking at her, has had her eyes on her the entire time, remaining awkwardly crouched over her and she's not sure how she manages to form words in her embarrassment but she grits out, "Sit down before anyone notices." She expects Rachel to disappear to the front of the bus but, to her surprise, the brunette sits back down in the seat she just left. Puck is looking back at them and _god_, he's giving her the most pitiful look ever.

She didn't have to pee a lot, she realizes and that is the only silver lining she can find in this scenario. Because she doesn't have much control, every time seems like an emergency when, in reality, there's not much for her to release. This wasn't a dribble but it definitely wasn't enough to cause a puddle on her seat (though, if her dress were thinner, it may have).

The bus jerks to a stop and Mr. Schue bolts up, looking back at her and motioning for her to be the first to exit. She looks out the window and realizes they're at the hotel and she can't do this. She can't get up and walk past all of her friends when she just wet herself. "Quinn's gonna have to take it slow. Running on a full bladder isn't exactly comfortable." Her attention turns to Rachel who stands up again, this time keeping her balance. "I think the rest of us should head in and start changing since that is clearly what is of the utmost importance, Mr. Schuester." It sounds like Rachel's version of angry and everyone looks at her and Quinn doesn't see how they _don't_ know. She feels bright red, she feels like crying, and she fidgets uncomfortably in her mess. Still, Mr. Schue nods (probably because Puck announces that he agrees with Rachel) and motions for everyone to file off the bus. Puck lingers behind but Quinn shakes her head and he trails behind Lauren off the bus.

Rachel remains next to her and she runs a hand through her hair before taking off her sweater. "Come on, Quinn. Let's go get you cleaned up."

Quinn's eyes harden and she closes her eyes so that she doesn't burst into tears. "I can do it myself. _Please_ just go." She feels a tear escape the corner of her eye and she lets out an aggravated sigh. Can she control _any_ bodily function?

Rachel grabs her arm and Quinn rips away from her grasp, only to bring both her hands up to cover her face. This has got to be some kind of karma for being so horrible to Rachel. This is punishment for something. She sobs and there are tears running down her cheeks and she tries to quickly wipe them away, Rachel grabs her arm again and this time Quinn lets her help her up. Her face falls even more when she removes herself from her seat and she feels even more wet than she did before. She doesn't look down at the seat because she's positive she'll actually die from this feeling of being so exposed, but she sees Rachel glance, the brunette's face somehow still staying straight. "Not too bad," she says softly, trying her sweater around Quinn's waist. "Grab your bag and then go grab mine okay?"

Quinn nods pathetically, grabbing her bag and making her way slowly down the aisle, hating the way her underwear rub against her uncomfortably. She looks back at Rachel right before she grabs the other girl's bag and her eyes nearly bug out of her head when she sees Rachel swipe her bare hand over the seat. She notices Rachel look at her middle and index finger against her thumb before wiping her hand on the back of her skirt as she starts walking towards Quinn. She almost asks what the hell just happened there, but she figures she really isn't one to be judging given her current state.

* * *

><p>Rachel leads her to a bathroom on the main floor that isn't beyond crowded and actually has a lock on the main door. It's smaller than the one next to the banquet rooms and thankfully deserted when they walk in. Quinn goes to stand in front of one of the mirrors while Rachel washes her hands, finally able to look at her shame covered face. She's still red to the very tips of her ears and she can make out dried tear tracks all the way down her neck. She looks at the arms of Rachel's sweater tied around her waist, her eyes suddenly welling up with tears again because she's reminded that, yes, she really did just soil herself in front of Rachel.<p>

The brunette appears behind her, her hands untying the sweater from Quinn's waist gently. Quinn hears it drop to the ground with a muted thump as she watches Rachel glance down at her backside. "There wasn't very much if that makes a difference."

Quinn scoffs. "I _peed_ on myself, Rachel. It doesn't matter how little there was, it still happened." Rachel's hands come to rest on her hips and Quinn finds herself nodding. This is the weirdest, most embarrassing day ever and that includes having Puck walk in on her using the bathroom while she was pregnant _and_ when she gave birth.

"It's _okay_, Quinn."

"It's _really_ **not**." Rachel sighs, a hint of irritation laced in it before taking a step back.

"Do you have an extra pair of underwear?"

She closes her eyes. "Yeah, in my purse." It sort of became a habit to be prepared once she started leaking, though she's never really had to use her spare before. She turns to go grab them from her things that they dropped on to the couch next to the sinks but Rachel is already half way there, bringing back both of their bags. Rachel plops their purses into the sink next to Quinn, digging around in her own first.

Quinn's not sure where to look. She wants to pick some random spot on the wall to stare at because looking at Rachel will just mortify her more but part of her wants to stare at Rachel. She honestly has no idea why the hell the brunette is still here. Maybe Rachel just wants to make her feel even more embarrassed than she already is (because knowing that the girl who made your life a living hell just pissed herself is perhaps the best form of gratification Rachel will get). Rachel finally pulls out a package of moist towelettes and looks at Quinn with a delicate smile before opening the package. Definitely not the face of someone who is trying to make this situation worse.

She crosses her arms underneath her chest, blinking away some tears as she stares at the stalls across from her. It doesn't matter if Rachel is sincerely trying to help her because she feels like curling into a ball and dying anyone, would still feel this way if she was the only one who knew about this. "Rachel, can you please just _go_? I need to be alone." She closes her eyes once she realizes that she is, in fact, going to cry again. "Just go get ready with everyone else."

Rachel frowns and steps closer to her, carefully running her thumb under Quinn's eye before doing the same to the other. "As team captain, I don't think it would be beneficial to leave you alone right now. You're about two seconds away from a meltdown and I need you to be able to compete later."

Quinn shakes her head stubbornly. "We have 14 members. I can totally stay locked in here until it's time to leave. Or I'll call someone to come get me." She's not sure she can handle getting back on the bus knowing what she did.

She feels Rachel move slightly and then hands appear on her hips, her eyes opening once she feels them squeeze lightly. "As a _friend_ then, I don't really think you should be left alone."

"It is humiliating having you here, Rachel. I'm seventeen years old and I just _wet_ myself like a child. You were literally _right there_ and I _know_ Puck knows what I did and I'm positive that everyone else does too." She sniffs, rubbing the back of her hand under her nose, grimacing slightly. She feels completely, and utterly, disgusting. "And even if they _don't_, well, I can't exactly put this dress back on for the trip home. They'll figure it out when I'm the only one who stays in our costume." She rests her weight on the sink behind her. She hasn't felt so low in a long time. This is almost as horrible as the time at her old school when the mean girls there cornered her and threw their lunches at her. She gasps out a sob, digging her nails into her palms until she thinks she breaks skin. Everything just keeps replaying in her head, all the insults and horrible things those kids did to her and how she turned around with blonde hair and a new nose and did the _exact same thing_ to Rachel. Not to mention her entire 'fall from grace' when she was pregnant and people once again treated her like dirt.

Her whole body starts to shake with each shallow and sharp intake of air as she loses any self-control she had left. Openly weeping in front of Rachel is something she, unfortunately, seems to have a habit of doing but this is way more than when she cried at prom. She is having a complete mental breakdown in clothes she soiled while Rachel Berry watched. "Are you _trying_ to make me feel worse," she asks, her words jumbled as she feels her thighs grow cold and sticky.

"Of course not, Quinn." Rachel pushes back her hair and then cups her cheeks gently. "I'm trying to help."

"Well, you're _not_."

"There's no need to be so embarrassed. If Mr. Schuester had just stopped when you asked instead of being a misguided jackass, this wouldn't have happened." She brushes away a few tears before sighing softly. "You were trying so hard to hold it… I could see that on your face." She rises on to her tip toes and presses a kiss on each of Quinn's cheeks, repeating the process until she feels the skin beneath her lips start to dry. "You were so desperate that you lost control and there's nothing wrong with that, Quinn."

Rachel's hands drop down to her shoulders, her thumbs rubbing softly along her neck. "I don't know how many times I'm going to have to tell you that, _no_, nothing about this is okay." She's about to snap, can feel the words that will tear Rachel down on the tip of her tongue, her face contorting in anger when Rachel captures her lips simply.

It doesn't last long and Rachel keeps rubbing the spots on her neck soothingly even though Quinn tenses beneath her. It's careful like the ones she peppered her cheeks with but there's more there and Quinn knows it's not just because of the placement nor is it because Rachel wants to shut her up. "Do you realize," the shorter girl begins once she pulls back, warm breath hitting Quinn's lips, "how _beautiful_ you are when you aren't in control?"

She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but it sure as hell wasn't _that_. "What," she chokes out, eyes moving to look everywhere except at Rachel's face.

"I feel _horrible_ that you lost control like that," Rachel admits, pulling back slightly to give Quinn a little room to breathe. "But, like every other time I've seen the power you thrive on so much taken away from you, I get to see _you_. When you lose control, all that is left is your humanity and, trust me Quinn, you look your absolute best at your worst." Her eyebrows furrow and she finally looks back at Rachel, whose smile, though small and slightly guarded, is warm and genuine. "Just calm down and let me help you."

Quinn nods since she's at a loss of how to react to _anything_ that just happened. Rachel takes a step back, her hands gathering the fabric of Quinn's dress and pushing it up to her hips. She reaches out to stop Rachel on instinct but the girl in front of her murmurs once more that it's _okay_ and somehow, she's starting to believe it. She lets go of her grip on Rachel's wrists, even though her hands itch to stop her again when she feels fingertips hook the sides of her underwear. She almost says that she can do this herself, because despite her embarrassment, she can in fact clean herself off and having Rachel (who is remaining courteous and not looking below Quinn's neck, though her dress has dropped to cover anything Rachel could see besides her legs) take of her underwear is really not something she ever planned on happening. Not that she exactly planned on wetting herself until she was old either. But then wet fabric is being pulled down her legs, her whole face contorting when she feels the moisture graze the length of her legs until she's stepping out of her ruined panties.

To her continuous surprise, Rachel doesn't grimace at all. Instead, she balls up Quinn's underwear and tosses them into the sink on the opposite side of her. She had expected for Rachel to only touch the dry part of her underwear and to keep them at a distance but she's watching as Rachel once again looks at her hand curiously. Maybe she's dreaming. That is the only way she can logically process any of this. Rachel clears her throat and then wipes her hand on her skirt, leaning to grab the pack of Wet Ones from the edge of the sink. "Is it," she starts, pulling one of the moist towelettes from the package as her cheeks take on the faintest of red tints, "Is it okay that I do this?"

It's probably really _not_, but Quinn just nods. She's not sure if she should tense up or slacken when Rachel runs the wipe over her legs, this overwhelming feeling of _finally_ getting cleaned up coming over her. Rachel grabs another wipe and she pauses again, letting out an unsure breath. "You're sure this is okay," she asks again as she stands back up from her spot on the ground.

She's not sure how she manages it, but an incredulous laugh escapes her lips. "As much as my brain is telling me no, I think I would've made you leave me alone on the bus if I wasn't okay with having you here." She takes in a deep breath as she runs a hand through her hair nervously. "Or, you know, when you, uhm, kissed me." She's still trying to process how the fuck that has managed to happen given… everything. She opens her mouth and then closes it once more. She wants to ask but at the same time she's not sure she could handle much more today. Then she remembers that Rachel, though in a completely innocent way, is about to touch her where only she and Puck have seen (and, well, the doctor and nurses in the delivery room but that area was decidedly _not_ in its average state at the time), and figures that she will never have another opportunity to be this honest and unguarded with someone. "Can I ask-"

She looks to see Rachel blushing a little harder and her question remains unfinished. "Today has been weird," she breathes out and Quinn agrees whole heartedly. "I'm not sure if I quite like it but I'm definitely _okay_ with it… I like watching you lose control, Quinn. I'm not sure if that stems from seeing you so high strung all the time or if it is the evil side of me relishing in the fact that you aren't always the head bitch who used to torment me." Rachel fiddles with the wipe in her hand, the words she's looking for suddenly a lot harder to find. "I like that we've been better." It's one of the most simplest things she thinks she's ever heard Rachel say to her and she finds herself agreeing again.

"Thank you," Quinn says after a beat. "For this." She waves around the room, her cheeks feeling hot.

Rachel nods, the corners of her lips down turning briefly. "This isn't going to… I know we've been better and you know that I would never say a word, but this…"

It stings a little, but she completely understands Rachel's need for validation. "This doesn't leave these four walls."

Rachel lets out a sigh of relief, the frown disappearing from her face. There's a hand up her dress again, the fabric bunching awkwardly against her and she jumps at the cold contact. Rachel's other hand, which has returned to its place on her hip, squeezes as she makes quick work of Quinn's upper thighs, the back of her hand rubbing against the thigh she isn't cleaning. Rachel clears her throat once she's done and it's _almost_ comical how they both look to complete opposite ends of the room when she swipes once directly between Quinn's legs. It _would_ be comical if this strangled whimper didn't stem from the back of Quinn's throat, causing her to feel like dying all over again.

To Rachel's credit, she ignores it and instead continues, arm wrapping around Quinn and wiping the back of her thighs as well as the curve of her ass. Quinn bites on her bottom lip, trying not to notice just how much more fidgety she is or how Rachel's breathing is suddenly a lot harder than it was before. She really shouldn't be reacting like this because all Rachel is trying to do is clean her up and there is exactly nothing sexy about that. She's just even more sensitive since giving birth (_god_, she clearly did not realize just how many repercussions that had) and this whole thing between her and Rachel right now is weirdly settling. Having someone seem to so genuinely care about her isn't something she's used to, nor is it something she thinks she deserves most of the time. It's nice, though she clearly underestimated just how _nice_ her body thought it was.

"Rach," she starts when Rachel pulls back, tossing the second wipe into the sink and she's not quite sure why she opened her mouth. She doesn't know what to say, is at such a loss with this entire day, but Rachel looks at her and she looks so damn sure of _something. _Then again, Rachel has always been sure of herself and equally sure of Quinn.

It's a blur, just like the moment on the bus, and suddenly Rachel is gripping her hips, her own hands threading through chocolate locks as she sucks in as much air as she can against Rachel's lips. She feels bipolar. She seems to have gone from one of her lowest points ever to suddenly swelling with acceptance, something she never allowed herself before. There's a hand under her dress again and instead of standing stock still and awkward, her hips cant forward. The first brush against her is different, even if the purpose is to make her feel something other than the guilt she harbors every day. Rachel bites softly on her bottom lip the moment her finger slides against the length of her, gathering a different moisture on her hand.

She kisses a trail down her throat and the smile Rachel gets when Quinn releases a throaty moan feels like it imprints in the skin on her neck. She brings up one of her legs, hooking it around Rachel and giving the brunette more room, her hand immediately exploring further than it had before. Her index finger circles her clit once, another whimper escaping red lips, before dipping down and slipping inside of her. Quinn sinks further against it, her head lolling back at the sensation.

Rachel pulls back, admiring her work on Quinn's fair skin. Nothing is dark enough to leave marks lasting longer than this tryst, but Quinn's neck and collarbone is peppered with sloppy red spots. She drags her free hand from Quinn's hip to her chest, running her blunt nails over the fabric, smiling when a noticeable shiver runs through the blonde. Her thrusts are shallow at first and it's not until Quinn manages to look at her, face noticeably void of any embarrassment, that she picks up the pace. With each thrust, Quinn's hips follow, trying to get Rachel closer and she manages to slip in another finger. The sound that escapes Quinn then, a chocked whimper that starts out low before turning into something resembling a growl, is one of the best things she thinks she's ever heard. She squeezes the supple flesh beneath her hand as she thrusts deeper, lips reattaching to Quinn's when the blonde tugs lightly at her hair.

She's starting to meet more and more resistance, so she angles her hand just so that on the next thrust, the heel of her hand presses against Quinn's clit. Quinn groans, her features twisting like they did on the bus but this time, it's more than okay to let go, and Rachel finds herself whispering, "You're perfect," with one more thrust and suddenly Quinn gasps, her whole body tensing for a split second before she melts against her. Rachel strokes lazily, milking Quinn's orgasm for everything it's worth, only pulling out once she feels Quinn's body relax around her fingers.

Quinn's head falls to the crook of her neck, eyes screwed shut as she tries to find her breath. "Thank you," she mutters into tan skin, repeating the words until she feels Rachel's lips brush along her cheek.

"Better now?" It's a loaded question in reality but Quinn nods all the same.


End file.
